Chapter 72: Imparting King Zhou with the Art of Sowing

In the backyard of the farm, King Zhou and Su Hu were gleefully digging up sweet potatoes from the earth. To have a crop that could yield ten thousand jin per acre—such a miracle would be hailed as a divine gift in the Shang dynasty.

The two of them, ruler and minister alike, were thoroughly absorbed in their labor. Having already tasted the fragrant sweet potatoes, they knew that unforgettable flavor would linger with them for the rest of their lives.

Inside the main hall, Chu Xiaoyu had finished his business with Sun Wukong. Iron Fan entered and said, “Sir, you’d best go and have a look in the backyard. Those two are like a pair of bandits, furiously digging up all your sweet potatoes, saying they want to take them back with them. Their madness is truly frightening.”

After all, wasn’t one of them an emperor? Could they really be so desperate for food?

Everyone was astonished. Having nothing better to do, they all went to join in the commotion.

Su Hu was wielding his hoe with all his might, leaving not a single sweet potato or potato behind in the soil. King Zhou had managed to find two large bamboo baskets from somewhere, and with great delight, followed Su Hu around, happily filling both baskets to the brim.

Were they here to profit at someone else’s expense? It seemed a bit excessive.

“Heh, you two seem quite busy. But I must tell you, these crops aren’t free—I’ll be expecting payment,” Chu Xiaoyu joked, watching the two as they raided his field.

King Zhou quickly put on a flattering smile. “Sir, the yield of sweet potatoes from your land is remarkable. Every root is laden with tubers. How did you plant them? I would like to learn your methods, if you would be willing to teach me.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to teach for nothing. I’ll pay you for your efforts,” he added, looking at Chu Xiaoyu with eager anticipation.

Before Chu Xiaoyu could reply, Iron Fan, who’d come along to watch the fun, interjected, “Oh, don’t bother. The reason these sweet potatoes grow so abundantly is because of the special qualities of this estate’s soil. If you try to transplant them elsewhere, the yield will drop drastically—some roots might not even bear fruit.”

“Ah! But why is that?” King Zhou exclaimed in astonishment.

Iron Fan rolled her eyes. “Didn’t I tell you? Every inch of this estate is both magical and sacred. Take the spring, for example—any plant watered by its flow grows rapidly and bears enormous fruit. But elsewhere, that’s impossible.”

“Hehe, am I right, sir?” she said, turning to Chu Xiaoyu.

He nodded. “Yes, Iron Fan is correct. However, sweet potatoes are drought-resistant and easy to cultivate. Conservatively, you could expect a yield of two to three thousand jin per acre, at the very least.”

“Potatoes are the same—drought-resistant, and you plant them just like sweet potatoes: cut them into pieces, mix with poultry and livestock manure, dig a trench, and bury them. That’s all.”

This casual explanation would, unbeknownst to anyone present, one day transform the impoverished Shang dynasty into a land of agricultural abundance—where the nation flourished, grain overflowed, and every household enjoyed steaming bowls of white rice.

“Sir, I wonder if I might take these sweet potatoes and potatoes back with me?” King Zhou asked.

“Well, you’ve already dug up so many. What can I say?” Chu Xiaoyu laughed and shook his head.

From Sun Wukong to King Zhou, it seemed that every time they came to the manor, they’d make sure to take anything new and interesting they found.

Su Hu, working with all his might, had unearthed a vast pile of sweet potatoes and potatoes. Several large baskets were filled to the brim, yet the fields still held an abundance. The two men were now troubled.

Whether sweet potatoes or potatoes, both were precious. It would be a waste to leave them in the ground.

“Your Majesty, there are so many sweet potatoes and potatoes left. How will we transport them all back?” Su Hu asked, worried.

King Zhou was equally at a loss. “Well… I don’t know. Perhaps we should ask the gentleman—he may have a solution.”

The mysterious celestial gate did not open at will; it required fate and could not be forced.

The two of them washed away the mud at the magical spring, cleansing themselves of the grime.

Now, the backyard of the manor had been transformed by Chu Xiaoyu, who’d had stone steps built, along with ornamental rocks, bridges, and flowing water. The scenery was enchanting in every direction.

Should an outsider stumble in, they would be overwhelmed, perhaps even convinced they had wandered into a celestial paradise on earth.

“Ah! Who would have thought such breathtaking beauty could grace this estate? If only I, the king, could stay here for a year or two, how wonderful that would be.”

Back in the capital, King Zhou’s favorite place had been the Star-Picking Tower. Yet, even the ten towers of the capital could not compare to the mist-shrouded beauty of this estate—not by a long stretch.

Having washed and tidied themselves, the two went to find Chu Xiaoyu.

The main hall was empty except for Chu Xiaoyu, who was sipping tea. The talking monkey, the fat ox, Iron Fan, and the others were nowhere to be seen. Aside from the imprisoned Su Daji, not a soul remained.

“Sir, I have a rather shameless request. I wonder if you have any way to help us transport those sweet potatoes and potatoes back to Shang?” King Zhou asked.

Were it not for having witnessed Chu Xiaoyu’s extraordinary abilities firsthand, he wouldn’t have dared ask such a favor.

The sweet potatoes had been given freely, as had the potatoes, and yet they hoped to take every last one.

Where in the world could such a bargain be found? They’d taken full advantage, it seemed.

“There is a way,” Chu Xiaoyu replied, “but I’ll be charging interest.”

“Sir, what do you mean by interest?” Su Hu asked, ever curious about any strange new concept.

King Zhou was equally intrigued.

“Interest is simply profit,” Chu Xiaoyu explained. “Think about it—you eat and drink here for free, and return not empty-handed, but with all my goods as well. Aren’t you the least bit embarrassed?”

“Ah… well… it’s not as if I’m taking it for nothing. When I return, next time I come, I’ll pay you,” King Zhou stammered, his face flushing bright red.